Contracted Works: Phantom Saint
by Spiritblade
Summary: Another story meant for Traingham's 'By Your Enrapture' fanfic. This one is from Albireo Imma's POV.


_Phantom Saint: Albireo Imma of the Red Wings_

_A Magister Magi Negi fanfic for Traingham's 'By Your Enrapture'_

_Written by Spiritblade_

_Disclaimer:_This story is written on behalf of Traingham for his Magister Negi Magi fanfic, 'By Your Enrapture'. I do not own his story (isn't that obvious?) and the franchise (for if I tried, I will find an army of very angry people on my doorstep). But the Magic World is large enough for everyone, and holds enough wonders to rival Creation.

I give Traingham the right to change the story, so that it fits with his (award-winning) Magister Negi Magi novels, BYE and FVA. Oh, and this is for the reviewer who requested a character profile for Albireo Imma of the Alba Rubra. I hope I have not disappointed. And thank you for the idea – and the challenge. Now, on with the story!

(O)

_Spin a coin;_

_Spin a coin, all fall down._

_A Queen of Heaven rides through the town._

Ten years. It has been ten years since my friends and I parted ways. Ten years since my body and spirit were bound to the World Tree beneath Mahora Academy, to watch and guard this place where fantasy and reality walk hand-in-hand to craft stories and lives that were uplifting to the soul. Here, hidden behind a human face, an elf could walk with her human lover and talk about where to go when the day was done; here, a girl could kiss her boyfriend on the street, and it would feel like it was her first time, cherished and immortalized in memory; here, a boy whose veins ran rich with power and whom Fate would lavish her affections on would come and ensnare the hearts of so many.

_Turn the world;_

_Turn all Time, a Prince of the Earth__,_

_Walks into song and rhyme_

Cute and naïve, gifted and mighty, brother and lover, Negi Springfield would unknowingly into a trap – or was he sent? – set long before he was born. Or could it be considered one? I do not call having over two dozen girls in one room, all of them wanting to be the woman you would call your wife (or wives, in this case, as I know they do not mind sharing…) a trap. Negi has shown himself to have considerable stamina, so I need not fear in that respect when the girls in his class jump him. Or will he jump them? Most likely the latter, if you ask me. The reason for this comes in the shape of one Evangeline Athanasia Katherine McDowell, a Dark Mistress whose power rivals that of the vampire kingdoms' lost Emperor. She had been imprisoned in Mahora by Nagi Springfield, the hero of the Great War, three years after its end. It was a masterstroke that would have earned the Thousand Master no small amount of applause, had it been known. Not by magic had Nagi defeated Evangeline, but by simple trickery. Mortified and unable to do anything, Kitty (as I called Evangeline) was forced to accept the terms of her imprisonment. She would play bodyguard to Mahora Academy's dean until the time came when the anger and resentment in her heart faded.

Sure, 15 years in Junior High was no picnic, but it beats being tortured to death in the prison-fortresses of the Magic World's Inquisitorial strongholds. And Kitty knew it. But when she heard that the son of her most hated – and most beloved – enemy was coming to her prison, she went about making plans to break the curse the latter had set on her.

It backfired. How? Simple: she fell for him. She will not admit it under the fiery lashes of the Archangels, but Evangeline is a woman in love. She has an odd way of showing it, sure, but she will have no other man by her side. And when I saw the way she held him after the Mahora Budokai (through Nagi's eyes, mind you – I do so hate missing out on the fun…), I knew my little Kitty had gotten over Nagi. And knowing the number of women after him, one less – especially one as persistent as Evangeline – is a godsend.

_There they wait,_

_The maidens of thirty and eight,_

_Born to youth and joy,_

_To hope and passion,_

_To eternities yet unseen and to await children yet unborn_

I know many of Nagi's secrets; secrets which would have led to the Mage Council bringing to bear its terrible might to finding the one who had saved them from the First and Forsaken Angel's machinations, his friends (myself included – and, unlike them, I cannot run, especially not after what one of the Forsaken Angel's servants did to me!) and the women who had been close to him (and who had given birth to his children). I am not an easy man to move to sorrow and melancholy; I prefer taking life as it comes, with a pinch of salt, a healthy dose of humour and a dry wit that would leave even the most stoic of the Archangels reaching for their swords. I know that Negi – and his older sister, Nekane – are more than what they are and what they know about themselves. I know that they are children of tragedy, the firstborn heirs to a Kingdom as old – maybe even older, if the legends of the Solar Deliberative are true – as that of the vampires' lost Empire of Nocturne.

And Evangeline's turning of Negi has – and will – make him heir apparent to the Obsidian Throne of the Vampire King. For centuries, it had lain empty, as the Dark Lords and Mistresses – the ruling aristocracy of the Night – had decided that the Throne was not worth another Nexus War when they fought with their former servants and allies, the Lycans who had once acted for generations as their daylight guard. I know what will happen. I do not need clairvoyance to know that Negi will be the spark that will set the vampires' Ascension War alight once more. I do not need the Oracles of Delphi or the God Thoth himself to tell me that the powers behind the Mage Council will take action when they realize that their ancient enemies are returning. The high-born sons and daughters of the Elemental Dragons, the False Princes of Creation, remember all too well how they had earned the thrones they now sit on and know that, one day, their deeds would come back to haunt them.

But the Usurpation did not happen without reason. Though history will speak otherwise, let me tell you that the strongest amongst the children of the Elemental Dragons yearned for the crowns that sat on the brows of their masters and mistresses. The excesses and atrocities committed by the latter during the long years of their reign had given the Dragon Lords the very weapon by which they would be struck down. But the ruler of these fallen demigods and her champions strove to right the wrong of their peers. They failed. The Golden Sun Lords and their Queen would stand in the heart of the Solar Deliberative at the end of it all to find that everything they had strove for was long gone. The burnished gold of the sun hid hearts already made dark and corrupt. To twist the knife further, the corrupt Princes of the Sun demanded that their Queen surrender the Crown of Thunders. She, they say, was unworthy of that most precious of gifts and of the mandate bestowed upon her by the Unconquered Sun.

And that was when the children of the Dragons struck. They had waited when the power-mad Solars were in conclave before turning the full power of Creation on them. Several of the Sun Princes escaped, and launched their armies against the children of the Dragons. The Solar Queen watched in horror as a war far more horrific than the Titan War erupted.

_One amongst them shall change his Fate,_

_By blood and fang, she will make him hers._

_Crowned twofold,_

_Two Thrones become one,_

_And the eternal city that fell in a legendary Age,_

_Begins to stir from its slumber_

What happened next would force the hand of the deity that had long ago crowned the Solar Queen His most favoured child and whose heroism and might had granted Creation its right to exist. He cast her down, and she fell willingly. For what sin, I do not know, but for centuries on end, she devoted herself to the promise she made to one of the Golden Sun Lords who was cut down by a Dragon-Blooded courtesan whose hatred and resentment he had tried to end.

_An oath is made_

_Under starlit sky and twin moons_

_The Eye of Justice surrenders to his fate,_

_And bequeaths his last wish to his ruler,_

'_Defend Creation,_

_For we must not lose what we gave so much to gain_

_We who wronged so many,_

_Must pay the toll for our trespass;_

_I will return some distant day,_

_But for the Ages to come,_

_I give it my today.'_

One by one, across the long centuries, the Golden Sun Lords fell before the Wyld Hunts of the Dragon-Blooded Lords who had usurped their thrones. Neither negotiation nor entreaty would convince the triumphant Dragon Lords that their enemies were beaten. No, they wanted them _exterminated_. They would, with the aid of those in Heaven who wished to see the Chosen of the Sun humbled, create a false religion that would cast the sons and daughters of the Elemental Dragons as the Chosen of Heaven. In parts of Creation that had suffered long under the tyranny of the Solars, the religion was embraced and enforced with zeal. The Solar Queen saw the growing power and arrogance of the Dragon Lords and knew it was only a matter of time before they made the same mistakes as their masters had. But where Creation had only suffered when the Solars fell, the Dragon-Blooded would pull the rest of Creation into Hell with them when they too were cast down.

And she took action.

Evangeline is a scary woman. Astameer of the Mage Council – and I do know what this tigress gets up to when backs are turned – is a scary woman. The Dark Mistresses of the Vampire Kingdoms are scary women. But the Solar Queen is a nightmare. She sowed the seeds of resentment, ambition and pride amidst the Dragon-Blooded Lords and watched it bloom. She waited until they went to war and then – and only then – did she strike. The Day of Wrath is a story known throughout the Magic World. It revealed to all the limits of the Dragon Lords' power. That day, eight in ten House Lords of the Dragon-Blooded perished. Thousands of their kin and comrades were crushed and devoured by the monsters the Solar Queen unleashed, and their mortal servants were cut down by steel-clad automatons whose soulless eyes promised nothing but bloody retribution.

It would be the first of the Eclipse Crusades, named for the event when the moons of the Magic World would come into alignment with the sun, plunging the entire world into darkness. Such an event happened once in a thousand years, and it was one that the Caliphs of Hellas and the Lords of Megalomesembria prayed would pass without incident. All knew that when the Eclipse took place, the feared Queen of the Solars – who later became known as the First and Forsaken Angel – would lead her armies into Creation once more. And each time and with much loss of life and heartache, the armies of the Magic World would throw the armies of the First and Forsaken Angel back to whatever hell they took refuge in.

Oh, I forgot to mention one other reason why the First and Forsaken Angel is one scary woman: she takes the long-term view. She is willing to lose a hundred battles in order to win the war. I can toy with Evangeline to my heart's content. I can take every blow and Charm she throws my way. But even the infamous Apostle of Destruction (one of Evangeline's more colourful sobriquets) would think twice about going up against the First and Forsaken Angel. The ensuing fight would tear open a very, VERY big crater – one that would make the Grand Canyon in the Old World's United States look tiny in comparison – which would be the resting place of the vampire's race's uncrowned Empress.

Blast, another thing I forgot to mention. My age must be getting to me. Do you know the war between the Empire of Hellas and the Republic of Megalomesembria? History says that the assassination of the ruler and Crown Prince of the former by an extremist group affiliated with the latter sparked the conflict. But I tell you that that is only half the story. The entire war was orchestrated from the shadows by the First and Forsaken Angel, who sent her emissaries into both countries to fan the flames of war. The Dragon-Blooded on both sides never realized that they were the puppets of an enemy they thought long dead until Nagi came into the picture. We of the Ala Rubra proceeded to turn the Angel's plans upside down. She wasn't happy at our antics. When she retaliated, we found ourselves in the gun-sights of both the Republic's Special Forces and the Empire's Elite Guard. To quote Eishun: _'We jumped off the Kiyomizu Stage, only to find Yamato no Orochi waiting for us below.'_

In Rakan's language, that meant we were screwed big-time. But, thanks to Nagi's…female friends, we managed to elude capture time and time again. They always demanded…compensation, which led to Negi having a LOT of siblings and half-siblings. No doubt, he would meet them soon. And knowing him, he would be happy to talk to them. And they, him.

_Twelve Ages of Creation,_

_Six have passed._

_It enters the Seventh,_

_And if Evil is not thwarted,_

_Then mayhap it shall be the last._

The First and Forsaken Angel took her feud with Nagi to a level one reserves for one's most hated adversary. And considering that we were the first in countless centuries to nearly kill her, I suppose that's understandable. The Angel brought to bear the might of two nations onto a group of idiots – yes, you heard me right; doing what we have done takes considerable insanity and the willingness to really bust open the hornets' nest – who simply refused to roll over and die.

We knew we could not convince the leaders of Hellas and Megalomesembria to stop the war. Their minds were practically poisoned by the lies told to them by advisors the Angel had ensured would be there to further her aims. We knew it was only a matter of time before the Ala Rubra ended up in prison and before a firing squad. Nagi refused to concede, as was his way. He would not let the Angel have her way with the world. Our options were limited. We did not have enough money to raise an army. Our faces were on the Magic World's most wanted. And the number of bounty hunters and Magic Knights out to make a name for themselves by killing us was growing by the hour. It was only after hours of argument and debate did we decide on a course of action – one that would dig the hole we were in deeper. Wait, amend that – we dug the hole NAGI was in deeper.

We snickered behind our friend's back. If Nagi was determined to win the war against the Angel, let him pay the toll. It would be fun. After all, he already has a harem of women capable of making a Caliph of Hellas go green with envy.

Oh sorry, ran off for a moment there. Who did we call in, you ask? We called in the vampires and the Lycans. The first of the Vampire Houses to respond was the House of Tepes, who rallied its legions and rode into the fray with all the fury of a Horseman unleashed. Soon after, more than a dozen Vampire Houses committed their armies to the fight. No way in hell were they letting the Tepes get all the glory! Let the mortals speak their names and tremble, they say, for our time has come once again!

The Lycans were easier to convince. The moment they heard their former masters – and their most hated adversaries – had committed to the Great War, they knew that they had a chance to settle old scores and to prevent them for expanding their territories, some of which were close to Lycan-held fiefdoms crucial to their race's survival. The Inugami Clan, led by its matriarch, Tomoko (if memory serves), argued Nagi's case before her husband (what happened to him, I wonder…) and the other clan leaders.

Nagi's ploy worked. It bought him enough time to uncover what the Angel was planning – and to convince the leaders of all three countries (those that have not been bought or turned to the Angel's cause, anyway) to put aside their differences and join him in thwarting the First and Forsaken Angel's plans. As expected, everyone argued. I don't know who ended the argument, but I heard it was one of the Dark Mistresses, whose sharp tongue would have left gouges in the marble had it been given claws and a physical body.

Nagi led us to Ostia, where our final battle with the First and Forsaken Angel awaited. We had a world to save. Talk could not save it, Nagi said. Action would. And dear God, how dear a price we paid for our victory. The First and Forsaken Angel knew that her final hour was at hand, and had gathered her champions and the last of her armies to the ancient, floating metropolis that had once been the heart of an Empire larger than any in living memory. Nagi and the Angel fought at the Imperial Manse, and their struggle practically tore the place in half and brought the entire island crashing down. It took us three weeks before we found his body, wrapped in a fur-lined white robe bearing the sigil of a crown and crossed thunderbolts within the crest of the Unconquered Sun. I hastily removed it and stuffed it into my bag of holding, much to the astonishment of my comrades. It was the first time they had ever seen me panic. I told them I would explain it all to them later, even as I cursed Nagi in a hundred different languages.

The First and Forsaken Angel had worn the same robe, only that hers was black. The crest on it had been perverted, but its grandeur and message was unmistakable. It belonged to a woman who had once ruled Creation and whose power equalled even that of Zeus himself (who I heard, kept his distance, for fear that the former would do away with his crown jewels should he even look at her the wrong way).

But by swathing Nagi in her robes, the Angel – the Solar Queen of the fallen Deliberative – had proclaimed Nagi her husband. The radiant Solar Crest on the back of Nagi's hand bespoke of the sealing of that pact. The Solars not only have a King; they had a Royal Family ready to lead them to reclaim the glory they lost.

_Heroes long gone hear the call,_

_From across the River they heed,_

_From across Creation they ride,_

'_Come, ye who swore an eon ago to be the_

_Aegis and Sword of the worlds,_

_Ye who pledged to the Almighty,_

_To do His Will,_

_And to bring fear and despair _

_To a bitter end! Come, the time is nigh!'_

_And they come._

_Crowned is the King,_

_Sired to the Angel Goddess,_

_Firstborn is his daughter, bright and gentle as the autumn light,_

_Second-born is his son, whose smile and soul is the dawn of Creation's first breath._

When the war between Hellas and Megalomesembria ended, we did what we could to heal the wounds caused by the War. It was during that time that Evangeline started stalking Nagi, determined to make him hers. I did not tell Evangeline that there were quite a good number of women, including a goddess incarnate in Creation, who were vying for that cherished position of being Nagi's bride. Why? Simple: it would be fun watching him run – and squirm. Do you have _ANY_ idea how entertaining it is to watch a man who can defeat a deity panic?

Unfortunately, our sadistic streak also encompasses his son by the First and Forsaken Angel. Yes, his son. If the admiring looks thrown his way by the girls of two campuses – and the covert cat-fighting – are any indication, Negi is done for. I only have one worry: Negi, having being turned by Evangeline, will most likely one day lose control. He has no experience whatsoever in controlling the primal, inhuman part of the vampiric psyche that is a legacy of the First Vampire, that ancient murderer whose actions have left its indelible mark on the mortal races as a whole. Most vampires would call it (aptly, I must add) the Beast.

It is this that the vampires fight against night after night in their unchanging eternity. It is considered a sign of weakness in vampiric (and Lycan society, I heard) to submit to the Beast. Their race's vicious wars are nothing but the instrument by which to rein it in so that its claws will not gouge out what little humanity they have left. But inevitably, some do fall. And when they do, their fates are sealed. The vampire clans will mount a blood-hunt of the poor fool who is but a step away from becoming a monster. Such hunts serve a dual purpose of highlighting the dangers of falling to younger (and older) vampires as well as to test the martial and mystical might of the vampires who partake in the hunt. Most of those vampires who fall are centuries old, their skills and powers honed to a level almost equalling that of the lost Solars in excellence.

Negi was strong before he was turned. It makes me tremble at the thought of him reaching the zenith of his power. Should he Fall, the consequences would be unimaginable. And speaking of consequences, the fact that Negi had left Mahora Academy on the sly has not gone down well with the girls in his class. Takamichi is left with the unenviable task of dealing with some thirty-odd girls who are growing into young women and whose feelings for their teacher were changing into something else.

I don't know how this story will end, but I can tell it will be something. I cast a clairvoyance ritual once, some weeks back, out of curiosity to know how Negi's story will end. It is one out of many, but the one vision that moves me the most is one of Ostia soaring in the night sky, crowned by cloud and the stars and illuminated by the light of the moons of the Magic World. I see the ten thousand spires of that ancient city gleam in the moonlight, topped by the image of a crescent moon cradling the sun. I see airships bearing the sigils of a resurrected kingdom hover above the titanic building that I knew to be the Imperial Manse. And I see Negi standing atop one of the twelve pillars in the heart of a bustling, prosperous metropolis, immortalized forever in stone by those who love him and who wish for future generations to remember whatever it was he had – or would – accomplish and believe that they too can make a difference. Negi is not alone; the red string tied to his finger has bound far too many in its gentle threads to permit such a fate. I see many faces I know and can name, and just as many I cannot.

_Spin a coin, spin a coin,_

_All fall down_

_Rest well, my love_

_Rest in my arms safe and sound_

I want to be there when this story ends, and a new one is written. Negi's story – and those whose fates he will most certainly change – is one worth recording. A little voyeurism never harmed anybody, after all.

_FIN._

Author's afterword: I might do a piece on Nekane Springfield, Negi's older sister, sometime soon.


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